


"I Couldn't Think of a Good Title, So I Just Wrote a Whole Bunch of Words" (by Fall Out Boy)

by Huntress8611



Category: Arrow (TV 2012), DCU
Genre: Brotherly Love, Canon Divergence, Family, Fear, Gen, Hurt Roy Harper, Hurt/Comfort, I can’t even remember what episode, Injury, Needles, OOC, Overprotective Oliver, Phobias, Protective Oliver, Team Arrow as Family, Team as Family, everyone's ooc, fear of needles, in which I take a scene that lasted less than a minute and base a 1.6k word fic off of it, pretty sure it was in season 1 tho, this fits probably nowhere in canon, this totally isn’t me projecting my life issues onto fictional characters (again)...
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-10
Updated: 2018-10-10
Packaged: 2019-07-14 07:59:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16036280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Huntress8611/pseuds/Huntress8611
Summary: “Why, Roy?” asked Oliver, carefully resting a hand on Roy’s shoulder.“I knew that if one of you saw me or if I went to the hospital, I’d have to get stitches. I just- I really don’t do well with needles,” he said quickly, looking down, the last part barely audible.





	"I Couldn't Think of a Good Title, So I Just Wrote a Whole Bunch of Words" (by Fall Out Boy)

“Shit, fuck, _goddamnit_!” Roy cursed stumbling down the steps to the Arrow Cave. It was almost four in the morning, and he was hoping that everyone had gone home for the night so that he could just grab some bandages, patch himself up, and leave. Unfortunately, he’d always had shitty luck.

“What the hell happened to you?” asked Oliver, looking at Roy, who was bleeding from what appeared to be multiple slash wounds.

“Some guy was attacking a girl in an alley,” said Roy as Oliver carefully grabbed his arm and led him over to the metal table, helping him sit down. “I went to help and she got away, but he managed to surprise me with a knife.” Roy winced as Oliver cut away his shirt, looking at the jagged cuts on his torso.

“Jesus shit, Roy. Why the hell didn’t you go to the hospital? You’re lucky that there was even someone here!” Oliver scolded, pushing on Roy’s shoulder to make him lie flat on the table.

“I was just going to grab some bandages and patch myself up, it’s not that bad,” mumbled Roy in response.

“Damnit, Roy, you can’t just bandage cuts this deep, they need stitches,” Oliver chastised, grabbing things from around the room and setting them on a tray next to the table that Roy was lying on.

“Shit,” mumbled Oliver as he opened up a cabinet, “The only painkiller we have left is Tylenol, sorry Roy.” Oliver hadn’t been looking at Roy when he said that he needed stitches, so he didn’t know that Roy had been freaked out since then. He turned around, looking at Roy’s panicky expression and assumed that he was worried about the lack of painkillers. He handed the pills to Roy and said “It’ll be fine, you’ve broken bones and had your shoulder popped back in, stitches aren’t too bad.” Roy’s breath stuttered as he saw Oliver thread the needle, and he quickly rolled off of the table, groaning at the pain in his torso.

Oliver looked up when he heard Roy groan, and dropped what he was doing when he saw the boy pressing himself into a corner, shuddering and curled up in a ball. He quickly walked over to Roy, crouching in front of him. “Roy,” he heard Oliver say softly, “What’s going on?” Roy slowly looked up, seeing Oliver, whose eyes were full of concern.

“I- the reason- the reason that I was trying to sn-sneak down here was because I didn’t want anyone to see me. I- I just wanted to grab some bandages and go,” he stuttered.

“Why, Roy?” asked Oliver, carefully resting a hand on Roy’s shoulder.

“I knew that if one of you saw me or if I went to the hospital, I’d have to get stitches. I just- I really don’t do well with needles,” he said quickly, looking down, the last part barely audible. Realization dawned on Oliver and suddenly everything made sense. He reached out a hand and gently tilted up Roy’s chin, looking the boy in the eyes.

“Hey,” he said softly, “It’s okay to be afraid of something, Roy. You don’t have to be ashamed.”

“I didn’t want to tell you because I thought you’d think it was stupid or something. It’s just- we’ve all done some crazy shit and this is so small in comparison. It’s dumb to be scared,” he mumbled.

“Don’t compare fears or experiences, everyone is different. You shouldn’t have to hide things from your teammates,” Oliver said gently.

“I’m just scared,” Roy said quietly, looking down, and Oliver pulled him into a gentle hug, carefully avoiding the knife wounds.

“I know that you’re scared, Roy, but I really have to stitch up those cuts.” Roy tensed, burying his face in Oliver’s shoulder. “Roy, I need you to trust me, alright?” Oliver said, and at Roy’s nod, he let go and helped the boy stand up, draping an arm over his shoulder and leading him back over to the table. Oliver helped him onto the table, nudging his shoulder to prompt him to lay down.

Roy tensed up when Oliver moved to grab something, and Oliver set a hand on his arm, saying “I’m just going to clean these out, but it’s going to sting.” He waited for Roy’s reluctant nod before pouring the alcohol over Roy’s two cuts and various other grazes, drawing a loud whine from Roy. “It’s okay, you’re doing great,” Oliver said, putting away the disinfectant.

As he picked up the threaded needle, he heard Roy’s breathing begin to speed up, and he looked over to see Roy staring directly at him, pupils blown wide in fear. He quickly set the needle down, grabbing Roy by the shoulders and pressing him to the table. “Roy! You’re hyperventilating. I need you to calm down and breathe. I know you’re scared and I know you’re in pain, but you have to _breathe_ ,” Oliver instructed. Roy took a deep, shuddering breath and let it out before taking another and another.

“Roy, close your eyes,” Oliver said softly, picking up the needle once he’d done so. “I’m going to start now.” Roy whimpered as Oliver placed the first stitch.

He’d just finished the first cut when Roy shuddered. “Ollie,” he whispered, grabbing Oliver’s wrist and holding on tightly. Oliver looked up at Roy’s face and saw trails of tears running down his cheeks. He reached up with his free hand and gently wiped away his tears.

“Hey, it’s okay, you’re okay. We’re halfway done. You’re doing great,” said Oliver. He gently took Roy’s hand off of his wrist, moving it to grab his free hand. Roy gripped his hand tightly and Oliver squeezed back, gently rubbing his thumb along the back of the boy’s hand. “Do you want to keep holding my hand while I finish these?” asked Oliver, having noticed that it seemed to help him relax.

“Please,” he replied quietly, closing his eyes again.

“Okay,” said Oliver, “I’m going to need you to stay really still though, okay? Can you do that?”

Roy nodded, just grateful to have something to hold on to this time.

“Roy, I’m going to start up again, alright?” Oliver said, waiting for Roy’s go-ahead. When Roy slowly nodded his head, Oliver squeezed his hand tightly, starting once again.

Whenever Roy’s breathing would speed up, Oliver would start talking to him. He rambled on about some of the stupid things he’d done as a teenager and about some of the small, happier moments on Lian Yu.

“All done,” he said, tying off the final stitch, “I just have to clean again and bandage now. Can you sit up?”

“Yeah,” Roy said, and Oliver helped him to sit up before finally letting go of his hand. He soaked a cloth in alcohol and quickly wiped down the newly stitched wounds, ignoring the boy’s pained gasps. He put gauze on top of the wounds, securing it by wrapping bandages around his torso.

“Okay,” said Oliver, and Roy sighed in relief, slumping over and holding his head in his hands. “Since we didn't go to the hospital, I'm going to bring you home with me so that I can keep an eye on those cuts for a day or so, alright?”

“Okay,” he responded, his voice subdued. Oliver helped Roy off of the table, up the stairs, and onto his motorcycle, and then climbed on in front of him before having him wrap his arms around him and taking off for the mansion.

When they arrived, Oliver helped Roy get off of the bike and they went inside, quietly as to not wake anyone up this early in the morning. They made it to a guest room, where Oliver had Roy sit on the bed before crouching down in front of him.

“Roy are you going to be alright?” he asked softly, “I know that must've really sucked. You look like your brain is going a million miles an hour, and not in a good way.“

“I don't _know_ , Ollie,” said Roy, his voice cracking.

“Oh Roy,” murmured Oliver, moving to sit against the headboard and carefully pulling Roy towards him. The boy curled into him as he wrapped his arms around him. “It’s over, you're okay,” said Oliver. That was the last straw for Roy, and he began to cry, fisting his hands in Oliver's shirt.

“I hate that I'm scared, it's such a stupid fear,” whispered Roy ashamed.

“Roy, don't do that to yourself,” said Oliver, “Everyone's afraid of something, and your fear is actually really common. Even if it wasn't, it wouldn't matter, because your fears are valid no matter what.”

“Thanks, Ollie,” muttered Roy, “I just, I try so _damn_ hard to avoid this shit, and it never works, and then I end up in this kind of situation, and unlike this time, it's usually with people who only give a shit ‘cause I'm paying them.”

“Roy,” said Oliver softly, making sure Roy was looking at him, “If you're ever hurt or panicking, or you just need someone, you can call me, or even Diggle or Felicity, okay? You're not alone anymore.” Roy looked up at Oliver with a glint of hope in his eyes.

“Are you being for real?” he asked hopefully.

“Yeah, I am, Roy,” Oliver confirmed, and Roy smiled.

“Thank you,” he said, trying and failing to hide his yawn.

A few minutes later, Oliver shook his head with a small smile. The kid had fallen into a peaceful sleep on top of him. Oliver felt a yawn creep up on him, and he quickly fell asleep as well.


End file.
